


Joetrick Drabbles

by orphan_account



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 08:05:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7524871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>8 lil drabbles I made when I was facing some pretty awful writer's block. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Joetrick Drabbles

_**Magic** _

Patrick didn’t play the piano very often, and when he did he tried to do it when there was no one around, at least that’s what Joe had noticed. But one evening he was walking past the writing room in the studio that had a piano in it and there was music coming out. There wasn’t anyone else around, actually it was just Joe and Patrick as far as he knew. It was a truly beautiful sound. No words, no signing at all, just notes. Joe moved into the doorway, leaning against it. Patrick’s back was to him as he hunched over the piano.

The soft sound of piano keys was like magic that surrounded Joe, dragging him into the room, onto the piano bench, right next to Patrick, who stopped the minute he saw him right there.

“No, keep playing, it’s beautiful,” Joe urged him. He took one look at Joe, smiled, sighed, shook his head, and put his fingers back to the keys and started playing again.

 

_**Coffee** _

Patrick was awake by five am. Joe was still asleep next to him, sheets twisted around him. Patrick smiled and grabbed his laptop and earbuds off the night stand. He opened up some of his files and started messing around with the tracks he had like the slave to his job that he was. He never felt Joe get up, he was oblivious to the outside world until one of his earbuds was ripped out of his ear.

“What the--” he muttered, pausing what he was doing. He looked around to see Joe standing next to him, holding out a mug of coffee to him. He shut his laptop and shoved it away, taking the mug. He took a long sip. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

 

_**Hands** _

Joe had never been one for hand holding. It just wasn’t something he’d tended to do, not with anyone he’d ever dated. But then came Patrick.

Patrick had nice hands. Since he too was a guitar player, they were always covered in calluses, but they were still nice hands all in all. And Patrick liked holding Joe’s hand. If they were walking somewhere for a while, he’d typically grab Joe’s hand. He would do it if he wanted to show him something somewhere else, he’d take him by the hand and drag him (he was a little man but you couldn’t doubt his strength). And surprisingly, Joe liked it. He liked being able to hold onto Patrick, he liked swinging their arms, he liked the slight tingly sensation he go in the tips of his fingers when Patrick would do it.

Maybe it was just because he liked Patrick. He was okay with that.

 

_**Fear**_

Joe liked to pretend he wasn’t afraid of anything. Patrick knew better than that, especially when it came to walking outside in the dark. So when Joe said that he was gonna walk over to Patrick’s at 9:30 at night because his car wasn’t working, Patrick got a little overprotective.

“You’re sure? I can come get you.”

“No, no it’s fine.”

“Joe, you’re voice is shaking,” he sighed into the phone.

“Patrick, I can walk the six blocks to your place.”

“But--”

“Come on man, chill.”

“Last time you walked alone in the dark you were so terrified that you threw up. We are not having that happen again.”

“I’m over that stupid fear.”

“It doesn’t sound like it.” It really didn’t. Joe’s voice was all trembly and nervous. “I’m gonna pick you up.”

“Don’t waste the gas.”

“Then I’ll walk over.” There was a tiny gasp on the other end.

“But think of all the bad things that could come out of that! You could--you could--you could be--”

“And this is why I’m walking over right now,” Patrick said as he shut the door behind him and walked down the steps of the building.

“Man! Not cool.”

“If you keep complaining I won’t hold your hand on the way back.” There was a brief moment of silence.

“You’re a mean little man, you know that right?” Patrick turned the corner and smiled.

 

_**Vinyls** _

“Where the hell are we going?” Patrick asked Joe. The two of them were walking down a street in New York City with their few hours of free time. Joe looked down at his boyfriend and smiled, probably driving him crazy.

“You’ll see,” was all he chose to say. He had a surprise in store. Patrick shook his head.

When they stopped in front of the place, Patrick looked at the sign and his face lit up.

“A record store?”

“Yeah, a friend of mine said that it’s the best independent record store this side of NYC.” Patrick pushed the door open and looked around, his face equating to someone's reaction to a puppy in a sweater.

“I really don’t need more records…” He said, trailing off.

“Nobody _needs_ more records. They just end up there.” Joe squeezed his hand and the two of them took off, digging through all the bins. An afternoon comparing albums, recommending artists, and arguing over which artist was better seemed like a far better afternoon to Joe than a tour bus.

On the way back, Patrick stood up on his tippy toes to reach the side of Joe’s temple, pressing a kiss there.

“Thanks for my vinyls, babe,” he said, looking down at the paper bag in his hand.

“Mm, you’re welcome.”

 

_**Interviews** _

“Man, I’m so fucking sick of that question,” Patrick said when he crawled back into bed after coming home from an interview. He could hear Joe shift the phone against his ear before responding.

“What question?”

“You know, the _question_.” Joe made an “ah” sound.

“That one.”

“Yeah. That one.”

“It was your idea to go public with our relationship.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t get why everyone has to ask about it! And it’s always the same three variations of one question. Like, you can read six different interviews and find the answer you’re looking for.” Joe was quietly laughing. “What?”

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.” Patrick sighed.

“I don’t even get to rant?”

“Nope.” He shook his head, a smiles starting to tug at his mouth. “Look, just answer it. It’s only been a few months, it’ll die down soon. They’ll find something else to constantly ask us about.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you in a few weeks, right?”

“Yup, bye.”

“Bye.”

 

_**Love** _

The first time Joe said “I love you” to Patrick was on a tour bus in the middle of nowhere. It was early for not only a tour day, but for Patrick to be up, so Joe was quite surprised to see him at the little table on the bus, fighting with whatever he was doing on his laptop. He shut it frustratedly and shoved it away, leaning back into the couch, arms folded over his chest. Joe slid onto the couch next to him. Patrick put his head down on Joe’s shoulder. They’d promised not to be touchy-feely gross during the tour, but this seemed to be okay. Besides, literally no one was up--crew, band, not even their driver. They sat there like that for a little bit.

“I love you,” Joe whispered from nowhere, not fully realizing he’d said it. Patrick lifted his head up.

“Yeah?” Joe blinked, then realized he was supposed to answer.

“Yeah.”

“I love you too,” Patrick said, kissing him on the side of his head. Then he put his own head back down on his shoulder, and they didn’t say anything else until people started waking up.

 

_**Home** _

Joe had convinced Patrick to stay at his house for a few weeks. Well, he didn’t really have to do that much convincing, Patrick had immediately agreed when it was suggested.

The thing Patrick wasn’t prepared for was how much he felt like he was at home. He didn’t feel awkward at all--it was kind of like he was supposed to be there. He kind of liked it. No, he really liked it.

He told Joe all of this one night when the two of them were watching tv in Joe’s room. Joe just laughed and put his arms around Patrick.

“Good, if you didn’t, we would’ve had a problem on our hands.”

“Mm, we would’ve.” They fell asleep like that. Patrick kind-of-really liked that too.


End file.
